


Burnt By Your Touch

by unboundpen



Series: Forever Yours (Slave AU) [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: BDSM, Caning, Dom/sub, Flogging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unboundpen/pseuds/unboundpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's run his mouth again in defense for his master. Damian decides his pet needs to be punished for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt By Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Fic trade with thelittlestcrane (on tumblr). This whole AU is dedicated to them for prompting me to explore more with this AU, brainstorm mostly.

He had been told by the prince’s servant, Colin, to prepare for tonight. The redhead, a dainty little thing, had avoided his eyes with a fierce blush, quickly stuttering the message before leaving Jason in the dark prince’s quarters.

So he did his nightly ritual, what was normally expected of him as adrenalin coursed through his body. Jason has learned to anticipate the dark prince, has grown to become excited to his time with just _his dark prince_.

Jason washes away the day’s dirt from his body with the shared body wash, making sure to scrub his fingers and behind his ears, knowing how disappointed his prince would be with him if he didn’t do a thorough job. He dries himself, stepping back into the sleeping quarters completely naked, and takes slow steps towards the bed, where he had laid out the soft leather cuffs and collar earlier before his bath.

When the collar clicks into place, he’s already hard. He draws a breath to calm himself before kneeling on the cold floor, resting his chin on the silk sheets, arms coming around to be held behind his back, resting on his ass. And then he waits.

——

The creek of the door makes him alert. It’s been almost half an hour glass of anticipation, but it’s not the longest he’s had to go through. He shivers at the sound of thuds echoing, getting louder with each step.

“Welcome back, my prince,” he greets, making sure he’s only loud enough for the royal to hear.

The bed dips next to him, the wooden posts underneath groaning from the bulk of the weight.

“Your knees….”

Jason moves in front of Damian, placing one of his feet on his lap to unlace his boots.

“My knees are fine. You’ve made me wait longer.”

“That is true,” the dark prince states, moving his foot to nudge at Jason’s half-hard cock, “You were well enough to run your mouth in front of our guests tonight.”

He says nothing, head kept low as to avoid grinning under Damian’s gaze. Dinner had been eventful, and even though he was just a slave, his treatment here had made him warm up to the Waynes. So when one of the guests at dinner insulted Damian, Jason was quick to voice his thoughts and stand up for his master.

Jason pulls off the prince’s boot and sets it underneath the bed coverings, certain it was straight before switching to the other foot. “Cobblepot spoke out of terms, my prince. I needed-“

“What you _needed_ to do was hold your tongue. I have taught you better than all of this. You have embarrassed my father and yourself, and mostly me. You are my slave, and mine alone, and for you to talk to a Lord -even one such as Cobblepot- like that entitles others to speak to us disrespectfully.”

His tone is firm, gruff with his frustration. It makes Jason bow his head even further until his chin touches his chest, but this time in shame. He focuses on unlacing the other boot.

“Now you choose to stay quiet,” Damian’s fingers comb through Jason’s hair gently, buffering his words and soothing Jason’s nerves.

“I’m to be punished then, my prince.”

Damian’s chuckle is light, his fingers tugging lightly until Jason meets his eyes. “It isn’t that hard for you to figure out when punishment needs to be dealt,” he pauses then sighs, letting go of Jason’s hair and leaning back on his other hand, “I wish not to, but it must be done.” A lie purely said for the both of them to hear.

“If the punishment is from you, and only you, my prince, then I will take it.”

The dark prince snorts, “Is it considered punishment if you enjoy it?”

Jason smirks, trailing his fingers over the arch of Damian’s foot. “The rest of the castle would be satisfied if I have the welts to prove it. What they don’t know is what type of screams come from within this room.”

“Your screams will be heard, but in order to do that we must give a convincing performance,” the prince sits up straight, snapping his fingers at Jason, ” Up.”

The slave stands, just as his master does. Two inches above the prince, he waits, shivering as the cold air touches the areas on his body that were warmed.

Damian circles around to the cabinet that stands beside the head of the bed, the one that no one is allowed to open except for the prince. Jason, in turn, untucks the chains hidden within the curtains of the bed. One from each post at the end of the bed is revealed. He turns around before he can see what his dark prince takes out and places on the bed. His prince circles around him, face neutral but eyes flashing with such heat that it makes Jason grin sharply at him, quickly eyeing the nine tailed flogger in the royal’s hand. Each tail consisted of colored leather, black, red, black, braided tightly and separated into smaller strips at the end, after each braid was knotted off.

The prince flicks the piece on Jason’s skin, trailing it up and down his chest to get his slave warmed up to the feeling of the light touch of braided leather. Shivers practically coarse through his whole body, but it does nothing for him…not until the prince pushes his chin up with the handle. Eyes, clear as the Costergrove water, and dark as the Elderon day sky met his when he looked up. It was only a quick glance until the prince presses his mouth to his, a chaste kiss to Jason’s top lip, then the bottom. A simple ritual that the both of them cherish since it signals the beginning of their sacred time.

Jason practically follows after him when Damian pulls away, but the handle pushes at his neck, above the collar, until his head is fully aligned with his spine, now standing straight.

“Hold on to this with your teeth.” That tone, the stern, commanding tone, rocks Jason, placing him on the balls of his feet. And that unconsciously shows him off in front of Prince Damian. They both enjoy showmanship, and Jason’s confidence in his looks and the urge to please Damian in every way makes it a sweet, sweet experience.

He takes the flogger willingly, eyes flashing with so much want while Damian hooks one chain link to a handcuff, and the second chain to the other handcuff. Now his arms are straightened out above his head, ensuring that he’s held there until Damian allows his freedom. When the final schick of the chain rings in Jason’s ears, that’s when the prince presses himself flush to Jason’s side, fingers trailing from the man’s hip to dip down until he’s cupping his balls, softly playing with them.

Jason stares straight ahead, groaning through the handle, but manages to keep his hips still while Damian fondles him for awhile. He massages, rolling Jason around in his hand, completely avoiding his erection, denying him any relief of the pressure that’s building up. And then, all of a sudden, the pleasing, tightening pressure is gone, only for Jason to feel the brush of silk as the prince sheds his button down.

The young prince, shuffles more behind his body, his other arm reaching over the bulk of his shoulder to take the flogger back, and trails it back behind him before he steps away from Jason.

There’s no verbal warning.

There never is.

Only the sting of the braids making contact with his scar driven skin is the only clue. But it’s nothing, not when compared to how far Jason can handle pain. And his dark prince knows that, and doesn’t hesitate to drive the tails back onto his torso, without hesitation. And immediately adds more bite to the pain with harder strokes.

Jason focuses as much as he can on the clearly heated look through the royal’s eyes, and makes it so that his shudders are from his master’s appraisal. His approval is all that matters. The pain is meaningless unless the one he wants to please so much enjoys it.

And like their past sessions together, Jason focuses on Damian and Damian only. He watches and pants with such an intensity, that he barely feels the next three hits.

It continues like this for awhile, the only sound is the bristle of the braids sliding against one another in the air, the multiple thwacks as they hit Jason’s chest, and his panting.

But Jason’s concentration wavers when Damian starts to aim randomly now. His thigh, abdomen, arm, chest, side. The stings are starting to crawl over his body, burning thin little trails in their wake, and when Damian gives a furious flick to his stomach, Jason yelps. That sound triggers the string of curses and yells that trickle from his mouth. And in turn, that causes the young man to deal harder blows, even stepping closer and off to the side to get the slave’s sides and have the tails nick at the outer part of Jason’s back.

In between the unconscious stream of noise, Jason focuses as much as he can on breathing, even when Damian continues to punish him with no pausing, and no sign of stopping even one bit.

He feels his erection start to leak, dripping pearls of liquid to the stone floor, and down his shaft, making it nice and slick between his thighs, and somewhat cooling the areas of which the flogger got him. But now the stings hurt even worse around that area, and gives the sound of the flogger hitting his thighs a more solid, wet smack.

Sweat starts to trickle down his face, and even more start making their way down his body. Jason’s hair brushes his forehead, slightly getting into his line of vision, but it doesn’t sway his focus on watching his prince. The young man stops, taking a moment to breath deeply, before he walks around Jason and out of his line of sight.

Jason is attuned to Damian’s presence, and feels him move around behind him. His arms suddenly drop to his sides.

“That was just your warm up. Turn around and keep still,” Damian growls from behind him.

Jason does so slowly, with the burn snaking its way around his whole body as he moves. He comes to the sight of Damian holding one long thin stick. Thin enough to leave clean red lines in their wake, but sturdy enough to survive striking his muscular body several times without breaking.

“That brash mouth of yours will be the death of you. Speaking out of terms to someone of a higher status cannot be over looked. I believe 50 lashings will do nicely to remind you not to do so in the future.”

“Whatever my Prince wishes.”

“Good. Lean forward.”

Nothing to do but comply, Jason shakes with anticipation while Damian moves around him again, fingers already curling within the sheets once he’s settled. The prince trails thin fingers along his lower back, rubbing soothing circles to get Jason to relax, and not arch into his touch.

“We’re going to put that mouth to good use. I want you keeping count. Every time I can’t hear you, we start back over again.” A hand grips Jason’s ass and squeezes harshly before Damian gives it a smack.

The sting from the first strike is nothing, but Jason starts counting, loud and clear. The memory from the first time he was punished like this comes to his mind painfully. What normally would have lasted about a quarter of an hourglass had gone on for about two hours, all because of how stubborn he is, and how much cursing he relayed to the royal.

Now he knows better, he knows that Damian won’t stop until they go through the number he says Jason deserves. After the fourteenth stroke, Jason starts to realize that Damian won’t be switching sides, but instead will wait for the halfway mark to change his target.

His arms start to waver, and he has to close his eyes and focus solely on his breathing while he continues to count out loud. He can feel the stings last much longer, burn his ass cheek and most likely has it red at this point.

He’s so far gone in the submissive mindset that he doesn’t realize that Damian has finished, and it takes Damian multiple times to call his attention.

“Jason.”

“Yes, your Highness?”

“On the bed, now.”

It doesn’t take Jason long, crawling up unceremoniously from the foot of the bed. Plopping on his backside intensifies the pain, making him hiss out a breath. When he looks to the prince, he gets a nice view of him bent over, divesting himself of the last of his clothing before he climbs in after. The royal may be smaller in stature compared to Jason, but the predatory look on his face. He leers, taking in the dark skin, riddled with scars from battle in his home country, a place he’s yet to learn about from the Prince’s lips.

When Damian climbs on top of him, he immediately hooks a finger around the ring on the center of Jason’s collar and tugs him up into a fierce kiss, one that he returns without hesitation. Foreign spices invade his tastebuds as Damian licks his way past Jason’s lips and caresses the roof of his mouth. The scent of sweat mixed with leather makes its way into Jason’s nose, making him close his eyes and take it all in as his hands twitch with the urge to dig his finger nails into the soft skin above him.

The young man stops it abruptly, grinning at the frustrated groan Jason lets out.

“You took your punishment well this time. Would you like your reward, pet?”

“Yes, my prince,” Jason whispers, watching Damian hold up the small glass bottle of the specially made potion and pour it onto his other hand. He reaches down to slick his slave’s arousal with the potion using measured strokes to get every bit of him, before Damian grasps Jason’s shoulder.

“When I ride you, I want the sting of your ass to remind you. Everything that happens to you must represent me. You are mine, Jason.”

That sense of belonging rushes through him, makes him dizzy, and intensifies the feeling of the Prince’s tightness slowly sinking down on him. Around him. But he can’t loose himself completely, not when the dark prince is flushing the most erotic shade of pink that makes him look even more perfect in Jason’s eyes. Damian can do no wrong, no matter how much younger he is to Jason.

He can feel him try to accomodate for Jason’s size, reminding the both of them that it has been a bit too long since the last time they’ve been this intimate. Damian’s stomach flutters, just as his chest heaves from the effort. His body starts to rock slowly. He reaches for one of Jason’s clenched hands and takes off the cuff, allowing it to drop to the bed spread beside them, and does the same for the other wrist.

“Are you sure?”

Damian opens his eyes, which had closed when he started to circle his hips, and glares. His eyes immediately soften when he sees how unsure Jason is, doesn’t know if he should or not and if so where to place his hands. He’s nearly broken Jason’s over confident nature, forbidding the slave from ever touching him without his express verbal permission, hence why the cuffs were there in he first place.

Now that they were off, the slave doesn’t know what to make of it. For now, he guides Jason’s hands to his waist, squeezing his fingers to make sure they tighten as he starts to ride him properly. He pants softly when Jason grips turn even harsher.

True to his word, Jason can feel the roughness of the fabric of the bed spread due to how sensitive his backside is, can feel it make the burning sensation turn hotter and hotter as the prince moved over his lap. He’s throbbing inside of the heat, and has a hard time keeping himself from thrusting up. But he forces himself not to, he doesn’t want to disappoint his prince, can’t disappoint him.

Instead he presses kisses to the royal’s neck, ravishes it with licks. Much like his lashing, Damian does not stop for a second, loosing himself to feeling stretched and entered ar his pace.

His nimble fingers trace Jason’s damp skin, trailing the base of his neck until he grips Jason’s hair and draws his slave’s head up for a bruising kiss. They both groan at the contact, feeling how frenzied Damian’s movements are now. Jason massages the cleft of the prince’s ass, trying to soothe the soreness he knows the prince is experiencing.

“Are you sorry for speaking out of terms?”

Jason gasps, shuttig his eyes, “Yes, yes my prince. May I cum inside you, my prince?”

Damian leans over and bites his neck in warning. “Not until I find my release first, pet.”

Jason knows they won’t achieve that fast enough, and finally takes action, hugging the prince to his chest as he pushes forward and tips him backwards, until the royal is flat on his back. The best and quickest way is to make it rough, and he does just that, pumping his hips into that tight heat faster, watching Damian’s every reaction. Watches for the way the prince turns his head to the side and moans loudly, clawing at his shoulders as his only way to punish him.

He reaches down, and grips the Prince’s leaking erection, starts to pump it with enhusiasm, until he starts to feel the inevitable shudders that coarse through the teen’s body. He doesn’t let off, keeps it going instead, wanting the royal to cum.

Fingers curl themselves above the leather collar on his neck, restricting even more of his breathing, and heightening his pleasure until he’s on the edge of of release.

Damian bites on his lip just as Jason feels something warm and wet on his chest, abd watches as the prince paints the both of them with his own release. He wants to, with him that is.

“I’m close, my prince. May I cum now?”

His thrusts become erratic until all he’s doing is pumping in and out faster and faster.

He’s being kissed again, and all he can do is yell into that delicious mouth and let go, fills the royal wih his seed again and again and again until he can’t and almost crushes his weight on the younger man when he’s done. But he stops himself, pulling away to catch his breath, and revel in the euphoria.

No words were said, as the both of them try to recover their breath. Jason does roll them on their sides, tentatively pulling his dark prince into his chest as he tries to get his thoughts together.

It’s not long when Jason pulls out and makes to get up, but Damian stops him and does so, disappearing into the bathroom and reappearing with a wet cloth. He climbs back on and starts to clean Jason first, wiping away the drying cum on his chest.

Jason takes the rag away to take back his job and clean his prince up, making sure that there is no more of his seed leaking from the prince. He’s the one that gets up this time, making sure that it’s clean and hung to dry before going back.

Prince Damian is tucked under the covers, patiently waiting for his slave, and pulls the bedding away once Jason gets on the bed.

They lay there like that, with Jason’s head cradled into Damian’s chest, fingers combing through his curls softly.

“You responded well today. I did not lie when I said so,” Damian states quietly.

Jason’s chest swells at the praise, and he presses his lips to Damian’s chest. “I would hope so, my prince. As much as I enjoy it, I’d rather please you in other ways instead.” He smirks, feeling Damian change his caresses into a hard grip on his hair.

“That’s not a proper thank you, pet. In fact those words never seem to be in your vocabulary.”

Jason yawns loudly then, grinning cheekily into the prince’s cooling skin.

“Thank you.”


End file.
